


When I Kissed The TA

by military_bluebells



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Boys In Love, Crushes, Getting Together, M/M, Meddling Friends, Student Ray Person, TA Nate Fick, it doesn't end totally FUBAR tho, they mean well but they fuck up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23715994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: “Everyone knows about Ray’s massive ass crush on the guy.” Poke said, brushing past Brad to grab some milk.“Hey, I’m not that obvious.”Poke snorted, “Dawg, your face is practically a flashing sign.”
Relationships: Nate Fick/Ray Person
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	When I Kissed The TA

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Mamma Mia a lot at the time I wrote this so the title is inspired by When I Kissed The Teacher by the cast of Mamma Mia Here We Go Again.

Ray groaned, throwing his backpack on the floor, and flopped onto the couch. 

“What’s up with Ray?” Walt asked over Ray’s head. 

Brad sighed, “He just had a lecture with Encino Man,” Ray groaned into the cushions again, “and judging by the fact that he’s not ranting, Fick was helping out today.” 

“The TA?” Walt asked. 

Ray groaned, lifting his head up off the cushions, “It should be illegal to be that fucking hot homes, seriously!” Walt, the bastard, just laughed, disregarding Ray’s pain entirely. 

“Yes, the TA.” Brad answered, like Ray hadn’t opened his mouth. Brad was still bend over their broken coffee machine, which like the little bitch it was, had exploded that morning. Ray grimaced, touching his cheek tentatively. It'd exploded right into his face, almost taking his eye out. If he’d thought he could get away with it, he would’ve skipped Encino Man’s lecture in favour of moping around and whining about it to whoever was in the apartment. It also hadn’t helped that when he’d arrived, Nate'd been there and given Ray a concerned look, his green eyes so fucking sincere. 

He'd probably blushed like a teenage girl. 

“Everyone knows about Ray’s massive ass crush on the guy.” Poke said, brushing past Brad to grab some milk. 

“ _Hey_ , I’m not that obvious.” 

Poke snorted, “Dawg, your face is practically a flashing sign.” 

“You are a little obvious.” Walt added. 

Ray flipped them all the bird and rolled off the side of the couch, grabbing his backpack. He sat at the kitchen table and shoved Brad's toolbox to the side to pull out his homework. Fucking Encino Man gave out homework like a paedophile giving candy to children. Ray huffed, digging out his textbook for his Anthropology class. Encino Man probably did it to cover his own ass, given that he could barely teach. 

He wondered how Nate survived. 

And fuck he was thinking about Nate again, his big green eyes, sharp jawline, and blond tussled hair. Fuck, he smacked his head on the kitchen table and groaned. Somebody patted him on the back. It was probably Walt; he was the only one who had a heart in their apartment. 

* * *

Encino Man’s class was almost always two hours of torture for Ray. It wasn’t that he hated Anthropology, the course content was actually quite interesting, and it paired well with his major in Philosophy. But when it was just Encino Man, Ray spent the whole time mentally corrected him and when Nate was there, Ray spent the whole time trying not to fantasize about Nate bending him over a desk, which would have been a lot easier if the class had engaged Ray’s brain. 

He’d begun to bring his homework from other classes, just to have something to distract him from Nate’s plump, dick-sucking lips. 

“Right so… err… before you go, I’m settling an essay for um this time next week. About the beginnings of culture.” 

Ray sighed through his nose to stop himself from smacking his head on the table. His eyes flicked - without his consent - to Nate, who looked like he was taking a deep breath to calm himself. Ray winced on his behalf: Nate would probably be the one grading their essays. Everyone knew grad student was synonymous with slave to a lecturer like Encino Man. 

The class started to filter out, so Ray grabbed his problem sets off his desk and made for the door. Nate was packing up too and they shared a glance before Ray broke it off, so he didn’t smack into the door frame. Again. 

He didn’t have another class, so he walked to Matilda’s, throwing open the doors of the coffee shop to call out, 

“Fruity Rudy!” 

Rudy grinned behind the counter, “Ray, brother, what can I get you?” 

“I need something sweet after the hell I’ve just been through. A mocha if you please, my fruity barista.” 

Rudy laughed, “Coming right up,” 

Ray glanced around the shop, but alas there weren’t any teenage girls drinking iced lattes or guys writing novels that he could make fun of. He took up shop in his corner, crossing his legs under the table and unpacking his laptop. Adding Encino Man’s essay to his list of shit to do meant he now had two essays and a short story, plus the problem set for his Electrical engineering class he still hadn’t done and the reading for his main Philosophy class. 

“Here you go my man,” Rudy said, sliding Ray his cup before Ray could hit his head off the table. 

“Thanks Rudy,” Ray said, pulling open his half-started story for his Creative Writing class. He sighed and cracked his knuckles. 

He ended up deleting everything he’d written - which if he was honest was only about two-hundred words - sticking on a random playlist and just spewing his feelings onto a Word document. Rudy refilled his cup at some point and by the time Rudy was tapping on his shoulder, he’d been sat in the coffee shop for three hours. 

He packed up and walked back with Rudy, discussing where he should take Pappy for their anniversary. They parted ways when they reached Rudy and Pappy’s apartment, leaving Ray to wander back to his on his own, the sky growing darker with the setting sun. 

When he opened the door, Brad was at the kitchen table, a pizza box opened in front of him. Ray snagged a piece before Brad could stop him. 

* * *

His work at Bravo Mechanics wasn’t too bad. It could get a bit repetitive sure, but most of the time it was just Ray, cars and good music. Brad would argue that what Ray listened to didn’t constitute good music however, Brad was bought up in the Communist Republic of California, so his opinions on country music were invalid. 

“Hey there, how can we help you?” Ray heard his manager say. 

“My brakes are acting up,” said a familiar voice. Ray closed his eyes and took a deep breath, glad that he was hidden under Mr Atkins’ ford: Nate wouldn’t be able to see him from here. 

“Ray!” 

Ray cursed under his breath but rolled out from under the car: Max would have his head if he didn’t come out. He stood and gave Nate an awkward smile, fuck he looked even better out of the formal shit he had to wear in class. The green plaid shirt - of fucking course he wore plaid the nerd - brought out his eyes, making them seem brighter. His jeans were skinny and Ray bet if Nate turned, his ass would be amazing. 

God, he’s fucking gay as shit. 

“Yeah Max?” Ray said, grabbing the rag off the hood to wipe his hands of oil. 

“Brakes on the Honda need checking,” Max turned to Nate, “Can you pull it into the shop?” “Sure,” Nate agreed, flashing Ray a smile. Ray smiled back and turned back to the Ford, thanking Brad’s Hebrew God that his skin tone didn’t made him look like a tomato when he blushed, like Walt's did. 

Max rose an eyebrow, giving him a look just like Brad. Ray shivered, god what did he do to deserve to be surrounded by Brad Colberts. She grinned and pointed to her forehead. 

“You got a little oil,” 

Ray jerked his palm to wipe it away furiously, glaring at Max, “Now you tell me.” 

Max just laughed and disappeared into her office as Nate’s grey Honda pulled into the empty space by the Ford. Ray took a deep breath and grinned as Nate got out of the car. He handed Ray his keys with a small smile, Ray could have sworn their hands brushed for longer than normal. 

“I was assured by Mike that you’d get it fixed quickly,” Nate said, in his formal voice. Fuck, Ray had wet dreams about that voice. 

“Yep,” Ray responded like an idiot, “It should be done by Friday.” 

And that was why Ray should never open his mouth around Nate, because that was a complete lie. It was Wednesday, his shift ended in like ten minutes, and he had shit loads of work to do because as Brad would say, Ray was a lazy, goat-fucker whose only achievement in life was the fact that he’d survived to age ten. 

Nate sighed, “That would be great thanks Ray,” and he sounded relieved and his smile grew larger. 

“Sure thing,” Ray said instead of telling the truth. Brad was going to have a field day when he found out. 

* * *

From then on it was hell; he stayed up until two am to finish his problem sets, woke up at his desk with a crick in his neck and ink on his face for a class at nine am and then another class at twelve. He didn’t have time to stop at Matilda's before his shift at Bravo, so he ran into a 7/11 and grabbed a six pack of Red Bull instead. 

Mr Atkins dropped in at the repair shop around three to pick up his car, leaving Ray only four hours to fix Nate’s car before Max kicked him out. Luckily for Ray, he spotted the fault quickly and it only took two hours to fix. Ray will admit that a quarter of that time was spent picking up tools he’d dropped or knocked over as he jittered from his caffeine high. 

“Ray, go the fuck home.” Max said as Ray finished cleaning the oil off one of the doors: he’d tripped over his own feet, knocking against the door and since his arm was covered in oil, it left a mark. 

Ray would have protested but he still had Encino Man’s essay and the short story to finish before tomorrow. 

He opened the apartment door, ready to have a quick shower so he didn’t spread oil and dirt anywhere, when he was assaulted by heavy rap music. 

“What the fuck?” he asked looking around the apartment. The couch was pushed back against the wall to make space for a table-tennis table Ray swore he’d never seen before. It was decorated with red solo cups and surrounded by people, most of who didn’t even live in the place. 

“Ray!” a drunk looking Q-tip called out, hanging from a tipsy looking Christeson. 

“What the fuck?” Ray repeated, louder this time. 

“Kocher came back from a class with Captain America and needed to get drunk.” Pappy explained, appearing by Ray’s side, with a red solo cup in hand. 

“And that explains why people are drinking here, how?” 

“We weren’t going to let the guy drink alone.” Poke responded, “Besides dawg, you know white college kids, any excuse to drink.” 

“I think that’s just college kids in general,” Walt interjected. 

Poke sighed dramatically, “This is what the white man’s world does, makes kids think it’s normal to drink and shit.” 

“Poke you’re a college student and you’re drinking,” Brad deadpanned. 

“I’ve been corrupted too man.” 

Ray sighed, rubbing at his temples. He could feel a migraine starting already. He pulled off his work boots and walked pass the peanut gallery towards his room. 

“Hey man you’re not joining us?” Garza said as Ray paused to push his door open. 

“Nah homes, I’ve got shit tons to do, I haven't even started that paper for Encino Man.” 

Brad grinned, “We can’t disappoint poor Nate Fick, Garza.” Ray gave him the evils and flipped him off, pushing his door open pointedly. 

“You fuckers can get as wasted as you want but you better not get your orgy come all over the couch,” with that Ray slammed his door closed, wincing as the loud noise went straight through his head. 

He could still hear the thrumming bass from the shitty rap song Q-tip must have put on, but it was quieter than it had been, so his friends didn’t hate him that much. He pulled out his emergency stash of Red Bull from under his bed, and immediately took two cans. 

He finished the short story, briefly proof reading it before sending it off. Then he cracked his knuckles and pulled out the binder he’d planned his essay in. Call him a heavy procrastinator, but he wasn’t suicidal. The effects of the two Red Bulls started to wear off around ten - caffeine always ran through his system quickly - but he wasn’t even halfway through his essay, so he chugged another. That brought him to two am, the noise from the living room quieter, but still present, not everyone passed out yet. 

His eyes started to droop as he finished his conclusion, only half knowing what he was writing. He finished thank fuck, before he passed out at his desk. 

* * *

Ray woke up with a thumping headache, tucked into his bed and with only half an hour to get to Encino Man’s class. He shot out of bed, tripping as his legs tangled in his sheets. He opened his laptop, swearing as it appeared he hadn’t logged the thing off or sent his essay. He quickly typed his name at the top and sent it, hoping Nate would forgive any spelling and grammar shit he missed. 

He only had time to grab a clean t-shirt and his textbooks, a little relieved that he’d slept in his clothes from last night. A game of jump the unconscious friend got him to the door and he sprinted down the stairs onto the main street. 

He was late, but only by five minutes. Casey Kasem gave him the evils and Nate gave him worried looked. Ray could tell how fucked up he was because that last point didn’t even register in his head. 

The class went on forever, Ray hadn’t grabbed any coffee so he was running on hopes and dreams and Nate’s smile. His head nearly hit the deck three times during the first hour and then another six times during the second. At the end of class, Ray slipped away as fast as he could: if he stayed seated for one more minute, he would have passed out on his desk in front of Nate. 

Matilda’s looked warm and inviting and Ray pushed open the door, stumbling over to his corner and the comfy as fuck chair that was waiting for him. He dropped his bag on the floor and folded himself into the seat, curling his skinny ass into a ball, and passed out on the spot. 

* * *

A hand shook his shoulder, “Ray, brother, are you alright?” 

Ray moaned and tightened his hold on the blanket that had materialised around him. He curled further into the warm cocoon even as Rudy’s hand patted his shoulder. 

“I called Brad; he’s coming to pick you up. You don’t look so good brother.” 

“You’re full of shit Reyes, I look fucking fantastic.” Ray grumbled back, opening one eye to glare at Rudy. Rudy chuckled and patted Ray’s shoulder again. Ray’s eyes slipped closed again and didn’t open until he was being shook again. Violently. 

“Homes, what the fuck?” Ray complained, drawing back from the hands rocking him, his brain trying to bust out of his skull. 

Brad’s face loomed over him; his eyebrows twisted into their concerned position. Brad lifted him to sit up and Ray winced, the sudden light making his eyes hurt. He blinked away the spots in his vision, smacking Brad’s hand away as he tried to take the blanket. 

“Ray.” Brad said and Ray sighed, letting Brad take the thing. His legs felt cold without it, even through his jeans. Brad gave him a considering look, narrowing his eyes at Ray. 

Ray pulled a face back at him and let himself be wrestled off the chair and onto the back of Brad’s bike. 

“Don’t fall off.” Brad said, throwing Ray his spare helmet. Ray huffed and slid it on, settling behind Brad and grabbing the handles behind him. He would have grabbed onto Brad, but he knew he’d fall asleep on the guy and then he’d definitely fall off. The ride was short, but Ray must have spaced out because he came to on the sofa, wrapped in his sick blanket and with a cup of Rudy’s bisexual, nature fucking, _Chamomile_ tea. 

“Homes, I don’t drink herbal naturist shit.” Ray griped. 

“Chamomile tea helps with headaches.” Walt piped up from the kitchen table, where he was surrounded by books and papers. 

“Who says I have a headache.” 

Brad huffed, “You did, while you were whining as I carried you through the door.” 

“You didn’t carry me!” 

Brad smirked, walking around the back of the couch to sit in his armchair, pulling a book out of his goddamn ass. Ray huffed but sipped the tea, rubbing at his temples. 

“Don’t you have a shift at Bravo?” Brad asked, not looking up from his book. Ray jerked, looking at the coo-coo clock on the wall, a gag gift from Q-tip. Ray swore, slamming his mug on the coffee table and jumping over the back of the couch. 

“Shouldn’t you call in sick?” Walt asked as Ray emerged from his room, in his coveralls and black tank top. 

Brad smirked over the top of his book, “Of course not Walt, Nate’s coming to pick up his car today.” 

Ray glared at him, which turned into a wince as his head throbbed, “Fuck you Brad, I’m going because I’m a broke college student that’s being exploited by the government,” he turned to look at Walt, “and because I’m fine.” 

“Sure, you are,” Brad said, rolling his eyes. Walt looked between the two of them but kept his mouth shut, only giving Ray a worried look. 

“I’ll be fine you corn-fed pussy.” 

* * *

Ray had been wrong, very wrong. He rested his head on the workbench, switching the radio off, and hoped he’d just die then and there. 

“Ray, I don’t pay you to sit around,” Max chimed from behind him. 

“You don’t pay me at all,” Ray grumbled into the bench, keeping his eyes closed. Thankfully, Max didn’t hear him, otherwise she would have chewed his ass out. 

“Hey, I think your boy’s here.” 

Ray whipped his head up and swore in pain. After the spots disappeared from his vision, he shot back a, “He’s not my boy,” 

Max huffed but the door opened before she could respond. Nate looked tired as he stepped into the garage, still dressed in what he wore to college. Ray blinked, taking in the undone top button of Nate’s shirt, his sleeves rolled up, and the lack of jacket. He could just see the hollow of Nate’s neck. Fuck, Ray definitely had some sort of suit kink. 

Nate looked up and gave Ray a small smile as he walked towards them. Max rose one eyebrow, but Ray ignored her, throwing Nate’s keys to him: he didn’t want to spread whatever he’d caught to him. Nate jerked and just about caught them, looking startled. Ray bit back a laugh at Nate's wide-eyed look. 

“Thought you should be a little more awake if you’re going to drive your car out.” Ray mentally cheered as he spoke a whole coherent sentence. 

Nate smiled, “Good thinking,” he looked over at his car, “It’s fixed?” 

Ray put a hand to his heart, “I don’t appreciate the surprise homes, I happen to be quite a good mechanic.” 

“When he’s not dropping tools or oil on himself.” Max added with a smirk. Ray glared at her but then Nate chuckled, and Ray melted a little inside. 

“If you work as hard on cars as you do on your essays, I shouldn’t be surprised.” Ray grinned, even as he felt his insides melt a little more. 

“Yes sir,” Ray said cheekily. It wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more like himself since this was probably going to be the only time he ever got to talk to Nate properly. 

Nate shook his head, “We’re not in class now Ray but I appreciate it.” Seriously, how could Nate be fucking cute while looking that hot. 

Ray gave him a sloppy salute and Nate looked like he was suppressing a laugh. Point to Ray. Nate looked at him intently , green eyes goddamn glowing in the shitty overhead lights. Ray looked away, feeling exposed. 

Nate turned and spoke to Max and Ray twisted around, walking over to the next car that needed fixing. He sat on the board and slid under it. He wasn’t hiding or anything, he wasn’t a pussy. 

“Thank you, Ray.” Ray tensed and looked up. Nate crouched by the car and smiled at him, gratitude clear in his eyes. 

Ray grinned, “No problem Nate.” 

Nate smiled again, the small little smile he always did. Ray wondered what it would look like if Nate grinned with all his teeth. Nate nodded and stood up, turning towards his car. Ray let himself stare at the shape of Nate’s ass for a second before averting his eyes. 

The sound of Nate’s car filled the garage and then it was gone, followed only by the sound of the shutters grinding closed. They really needed to be oiled. 

A pair of boots appeared by his toolbox and Ray pushed himself from under the car. Max stood imposingly over him; hip cocked to the side. 

“Go home Ray.” Max said bluntly. 

“My shift doesn’t end for like two hours.” Ray pointed out. 

“The only reason I let you through the door looking like death was because that guy was coming to pick up his car and I feel sorry for your poor ability at getting laid.” 

Ray choked a little of his spit, “I can totally get myself laid.” 

Max rose an eyebrow, “So it’s _that_ guy you want, interesting,” she said in an amused voice. Ray spluttered for a second, before admitting defeat. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, picking at the oil around his fingers. 

“You better bring me beer next shift for being your wing-woman,” 

Ray nodded, pushing the board back further to bring the rest of his body out. He wiped his hands on his rag as Max walked back to her office. He threw his jacket on - he’d suddenly gone really cold - and waved a goodbye. 

“Don’t bring shitty college beer!” was Max’s parting shot. 

* * *

He opened the door to the apartment and stepped through, toeing off his boots. The microwave was going and as he stepped further into the apartment, he figured out why. Lilley, Poke and Garza were settled on the couch, Rudy and Pappy somehow cuddling together in the love seat. Q-tip and Christeson were squeezed in the other armchair, Christeson half in Q-tip’s lap. Brad had pulled up a kitchen chair with Kocher and Walt was sitting on the floor. 

“Guys I feel hurt,” Ray announced, “you’re having mothers’ meetings without me.” 

Brad looked over at him, and sighed, getting up, “Ray, you look like shit.” 

“Did the tea help your headache?” Rudy asked sincerely. 

Ray nodded, “Yeah, the garage lights didn’t help though.” 

“Are we gonna to talk all the way through the game?” Poke said, glaring over his shoulder. He paused and rose an eyebrow, “Shit dawg I didn’t think you could get any whiter.” 

“You underestimate me.” Ray deadpanned, walking into the kitchen, shedding his jacket in favour of sitting on the floor in front of the open freezer door. He sighed in relief, leaning closer to the cold air. Brad crouched beside him and put his hand on Ray’s forehead. 

“I haven’t got a fever.” Ray pointed out, closing his eyes. 

Brad huffed, “You’re warm at least, how’s your head?” 

“Probably going to have a migraine some time soon.” Ray said, opening his eyes. 

Brad nodded, “Go get some sleep.” 

“Nah I’m alright.” Brad gave him a look so Ray amended his statement, “I’ll be fine to sit with you guys.” 

Ray walked over to the group and Lilley slipped onto the floor, leaving space between Garza and an arm. Walt passed him a blanket silently and Ray curled into the corner, leaning back to close his eyes. He didn’t really watch football anyway, so it wasn’t like he was missing anything. 

He napped for a while, waking only when he could hear his name passing over his head. 

“- don’t wake him.” 

“Dude’s resting on my shoulder and I gotta piss man.” 

Ray huffed and shifted his head off Garza’s shoulder and back onto the couch. There was a snicker somewhere in front of him and Ray wordlessly threw a cushion in that direction. He opened his eyes to watch the cushion smack Q-tip in the face. 

“He’s feeling better then,” Pappy said. Ray sent him an unimpressed look, gathering the blanket in his arms and stood up. 

“I’m going the fuck to bed, and if anyone wakes me, I have the right to prank them until they cry big, fat ugly tears like a pussy.” Ray spun around and shuffled to his room and dropped onto his bed face first. 

* * *

He slept through most of Saturday and Sunday, only waking for food and his shifts at Bravo. He developed a migraine, a painful, pulsing pressure on the side of his head. The other guys left him alone: Ray’s pranks were something to be feared, especially since the March Incident the year before. 

He had Anthropology on the Monday morning, so he dragged himself out of bed, throwing on a clean t-shirt and jeans and shoved his feet into his sneakers. Walt, like the Virginia angel he was, left a travel mug full of coffee out for him. 

Ray walked into class wired on coffee, his meds and painkillers, taking his seat near the back of the lecture hall. Nate was already set up at the front, dressed in a pale blue shirt and khakis, which somehow didn’t make him look like a married forty-year-old man who was beginning to bald and said shit like ‘when I was your age’. 

Encino Man turned up just before class was about to start and Ray sighed, zoning out completely. He turned to look at Nate who looked drained, and with every passing second, more and more murderous. Ray’s eyes flicked between Nate and Encino Man, watching with faint amusement as Nate’s eyes pierced the side of Encino Man’s head. The guy looked like he was beginning to sweat when he called out, ten minutes from the end of class that their papers were all marked. 

“Right… so all your essays have been marked, your results should have been emailed uh to you.” 

Ray narrowed his eyes at Encino Man, who didn’t seem at all tired or drained. Figured he’d lump all his work on Nate then demand it be in for the next lesson. Then again, from the gossip he picked up from his various sources, that ‘order’ could have come from Godfather. 

Ray opened his laptop nevertheless and clicked open the email from N. Fick. He skimmed through the paragraph included, noting cheerfully that he’d gotten an A, fuck yeah. He read the last sentence, and then read it again. 

_Please stay behind after today’s class, there is something we need to discuss._

Ray rose an eyebrow, but Nate wasn’t looking, actually it was like he was purposefully avoiding Ray’s eyes. Weird. 

He waited anxiously as the minutes clicked down and Encino Man finally dismissed them, a full five minutes after he should have. Ray stayed seated, watching all his classmates leave and then Encino Man, leaving only him and Nate in the classroom. Nate made his way up to where Ray sat and leant on the desk in front of him, crossing his arm. 

“You wanted to discuss something with me?” Ray said hesitantly. 

Nate nodded, “It’s about what you put at the end of your essay.” 

“If it was just random letters, I might have hit my head off the laptop.” 

Nate looked like he was trying not to laugh, “It wasn’t random letters.” 

“I don’t remember putting anything at the end of my essay, except you know my conclusion.” Ray tried for a teasing tone, but Nate’s face drew tight. 

“If I’m remembering right, it was something along the lines of ‘you’re the hottest person I’ve ever seen, we could fuck if you want.’ I’m paraphrasing.” 

Ray laughed, “Nice joke Nate, you almost had me there.” Nate’s face stayed blank. Ray stopped laughing. “You are kidding, right?” 

“No, I am not.” Nate said patiently. Ray stared at him. He didn’t remember writing shit, he’d passed the fuck out. The only people who been awake after him… It dawned on Ray, like a truck hitting him in the face. 

“Fuck.” He said out loud, “ _Fuck_.” 

“You remember now,” Nate said, sounding irritated and sharp. 

Ray looked down, a heavy feeling settling in his chest, “Shit, that wasn’t me. I uh passed out after finishing the essay, lack of sleep you know, and everyone else had been drinking and they like to prank me and shit and _fuck_.” Ray was rambling, his face was on fire and he felt sick. “Shit I’m really sorry Nate.” He must have looked pathetic as fuck because Nate just nodded, his shoulders dropping. 

“It’s fine, just… don’t let it happen again.” Nate sounded tired and Ray nodded quickly, grabbing his shit as quickly as he could and high tailing out of there as fast as possible, rubbing furiously at his eyes as the prick with tears. 

Fuck this was all he needed. 

He could feel rage welling in his throat, tightening it. He walked straight past Matilda’s, making for the gym down the street. He was pissed and pretty sure that if he saw any of his _friends_ , he’d punch them in the face. 

* * *

Ray wrapped his hands tightly and set himself up in the corner of the gym with a punching bag. He built up a rhythm, letting his mind slip into the white space he reserved for when he tried to meditate with Rudy. The bag was tough under his knuckles, the shocks going up his arms, his shoulders aching just enough. 

He panted, trying out a few kicks to give his fists a rest before returning to the mind-numbing rhythm. He stopped briefly to sip some of his water, nodding to one of the other guys he knew in the gym. He re-taped his knuckles and moved back to the bag when Brad appeared in the doorway. Ray sighed heavily and ignored him, striking out at the bag. 

Brad paced around Ray, coming to hold the bag in place for him. Ray huffed and carried on punching, hitting a little harder just for the satisfaction of moving Brad back a couple of inches. Brad rose an eyebrow at him and held the bag tighter. 

“You don’t usually come to the gym on a Monday,” Brad said, “actually you don’t usually come to the gym at all.” 

Ray huffed, “Yeah, cus I don’t need to spend time in a testosterone breeding area with guys who think they’re macho because they can crack a brick with their skull. I’m naturally this lean,” Ray hit out harder to make his point. 

Brad hummed, “If that is the case, why are you here?” 

“Maybe I felt like it.” 

“You never willingly do exercise Ray.” 

Ray kicked the bag with his right leg and Brad had to adjust his stance to take it. Brad stared at him with his patented Iceman stare, but Ray had become immune the second he found out Brad could do a Big Gay Al impression. 

Brad held the bag patiently before cutting off a flurry of hard centre punches, “If you want to take your sexual frustration out on a defenceless bag, I won’t stop you, but it’s easier with a person.” 

Ray gritted his teeth and pulled back, “You want to fight Iceman?” 

Brad gave Ray a look, “If that’s what you need.” 

Ray huffed, wiping his mouth with his wrist, “Tape your fucking hands Colbert.” Ray stalked over to his bag and threw the roll of tape at Brad, picking up his water bottle to take a large gulp. 

Brad taped his knuckles and wrapped his hands, all the time watching Ray with that expression that meant he was trying to get inside Ray’s head. 

Ray stepped onto the mat and cracked his knuckles, waiting for Brad to take his position opposite. It was a bad fucking idea - Brad was a goddamn Viking giant - but the current of embarrassment and anger under Ray’s skin had barely waned in the hour and a half Ray had been beating the shit out of a bag. 

Maybe hitting flesh would help some. 

Brad stepped up, eyeing Ray warily. The first time they’d sparred Brad hadn’t given Ray much of a look until he’d planted a solid punch to Brad’s kidneys. Ray’s pretty sure Brad pissed blood for a day afterwards. 

They circled each other until Ray jibbed, “Come on Brad, this isn’t my first time, you don’t need to be gentle with me.” 

Brad grimaced, “Save your perverted wet dreams for Nate, Ray, I prefer prostitutes to syphilis-ridden, whiskey tango fucks.” 

Usually the insult would have dropped over Ray’s back like water off a duck but well, Brad had put his fucking size 11’s right in it, pushing the wrong button at the wrong time. 

Ray shot forward and got a jab in, hitting Brad’s chest. Brad jerked back, probably in surprise and stepped back, even as Ray moved away. He moved from side to side, waiting out Brad’s attack. 

Brad faked left and caught Ray around the head with one of his bear paws. Ray ducked down to tackle around Brad’s chest, putting all his anger into it. Brad stumbled back, almost tripping, before kicking out at Ray’s leg. Ray pushed away before it could hit, dodging out of Brad’s range. Brad had barely broken a sweat whereas Ray was panting in an attempt to control himself. 

Fighting angry was a stupid way to fight. 

Brad shot forward, kicking out one of his long ass legs. Ray pressed his palm to Brad’s calf as he hopped to the side, pushing it away. He kicked out, catching Brad in the hip. Brad flinched back momentarily before he jerked forward, his fist shooting out and catching Ray in the chest. Ray swung his elbow down on Brad’s shoulder as Brad carried on his movement, tackling Ray to the floor. Ray curled his legs around Brad’s torso just before he hit the ground. 

“Fuck!” Ray gasped as his back slammed on the ground. 

He wrapped his arms around Brad’s neck, forcing it down. He gripped slipped though, and Brad whipped his head back, shoving his arms down on Ray’s shoulder. Ray wiggled under the Iceman’s weight - fucker was heavy - kicking his heels into Brad’s lower back. 

They wrestled for a minute, Brad trying to shove him flat, Ray jerking off the ground. Ray managed to slip around Brad’s side, throwing his arms over Brad’s back to keep himself from slipping under Brad again. He threw his knee up into Brad’s chest and Brad grunted. He lifted his hand off the ground and swung it towards Ray’s head. Ray ducked and fisted his hand in Brad’s t-shirt, planting one foot on Brad’s hip and the other on the floor. He threw himself into Brad and tipped him onto his back, forcing his shoulder onto the ground. 

“Slimy little fucker,” Brad cursed as he tried to get a grip around Ray’s head. 

“Fuck off Brad,” Ray spat, moving his leg to curl under Brad’s knee, holding it down. Brad elbowed him in the side and managed to get Ray in a choke hold. Ray threw an elbow out, but Brad absorbed the blow. He twisted in Brad’s hold, trying to slip out, but all it did was put his back against Brad’s chest. 

“Tap out Ray,” Brad said calmly, panting a little. Ray kicked his legs, thrashing from side to side. Brad wrapped his legs around Ray and held them down 

“Ray.” 

Ray slammed his hand on the ground twice and Brad released his neck but not his legs. 

“Want to tell me what the fuck this was about?” Brad said evenly. “

Fuck no,” Ray spat, “get off me.” 

Brad sighed behind him, “Don’t make me choke you again.” 

“Kinky.” 

“Ray.” 

Ray huffed, “Fucking fine, I’ll be sappy, talk about my feelings and shit. Now, will you let me up?” 

Brad released him and Ray rolled off Brad’s chest. Brad sat up and stared at Ray, waving him to begin. 

Ray rolled his eyes before looking down at his wrapped hands, “Nate knows about my… crush and talked to me about it after class.” 

“I’m surprised he didn’t know earlier,” Brad jibed. 

Ray shook his head, “He didn’t figure it out, he read it at the end of my essay because you shitheads got drunk and decided to pull a prank on me.” Ray looked up to watch Brad’s face contort, “Except I hadn’t slept and passed out, woke up in a panic and sent the thing without editing it, so I didn’t see.” 

Brad blinked, face blank. The anger had disintegrated, leaving Ray feeling self-conscious, embarrassed and hurt. Except he shouldn’t feel hurt, Nate was never going to get with him, Ray was nowhere near good enough. 

Brad opened his mouth before shutting it, finally settling on, “I’ll find who did it and make them suffer.” 

Ray laughed emptily, “Honestly homes, it doesn’t matter, Nate already knows. It’s probably for the best, I mean I didn’t stand a chance in hell anyway.” 

“That’s not the point Ray, they shouldn’t have done it.” 

Ray sighed, running his hands through his hair, “They probably didn’t mean it, I should have checked the goddamn essay before I sent it.” 

Brad stared at him, “I’m offering to help you prank them Ray, don’t talk me out of it.” 

“I’m not in the mood Brad,” Ray said, standing, “You can do whatever, I just want to forget this shit” 

* * *

Ray got back to the apartment and grabbed a bag of microwave popcorn out of Garza’s stash. He shoved it in the microwave and waited for it to finish before retreating to his room. He fished out his Adderall tablets and took two, if he was going to get plastered with Max tomorrow, he needed to have his meds today. 

He curled up on his bed and found one of the gag B-roll movies Walt had bought him and put in on his laptop, eating handfuls of popcorn at a time. 

Brad dropped in to rag on him to have dinner and Ray obeyed, slipping in at the kitchen table next to Walt, who picked up on Ray’s mood and started a conversation with Brad instead of Ray. All in all, Ray felt like shit, and he moped for the rest of Monday, completing some of his reading for other classes and staying in his room. 

He hoped he wouldn’t dream about Nate. 

* * *

“Max, my sister from another mister!” Ray yelled into the garage. Max looked up from her desk and rose an eyebrow. 

“I can see the beer you promised me, but I’m not having it during shift.” 

Ray shrugged, “We can have it after shift.” 

Max watched him dump his bag on the floor and pull off his sweater. “Okay, what happened, you’re usually talking my ear off by now.” 

Ray sighed, shrugging his coverall top on, “Let’s just say I was shot down hard by my crush, the only good thing about it was that it wasn’t in public, otherwise I’d be publicly humiliated instead of just humiliated.” 

Max whistled lowly, “It wasn’t that pretty blond was it.” 

Ray didn’t answer. Max hummed and walked around her desk to pat Ray on the back. “Well I’ve got some car guts you can bury yourself in.” 

“Oooo car guts, my favourite,” Ray crooned. Max laughed, turning on the radio. She was definitely feeling sorry for him as she left it on a country music station. 

Ray hummed along as he got his hands dirty, singing loudly and out of tune to the good songs, Max laughing in the background. He felt himself relax as more oil got in between his fingers, the garage warming up to the level that he shed the top of his coveralls, tying it around his waist, leaving him in his black tank top. 

“Can I help you?” Max’s voice was professional. Ray rose his eyebrows - that wasn’t like Max - and looked over the hood of the car. He instantly regretted it and quickly ducked down again. 

Nate, Nate was here. Why the fuck was he here? 

“Is Ray here?” Nate asked. 

“Depends on what you want.” Max said firmly. Ray had to stifle a laugh, but he didn’t hate Nate, so he raised his head above the hood. 

“Max stop torturing the guy, go back to your hole.” Max hissed at him but turned and walked into her office, but not before sending Ray a look. Ray nodded and grabbed his rag, wiping his hands. He waved Nate over from where he was hovering. 

Ray pushed past the tight feeling in his chest and said cheerfully, “So, what brings you here, is your car alright?” 

“Yes, it’s fine, great.” Nate said awkwardly. Ray nodded and decided he’d be a gentleman for once, turning back to the car so he wasn’t staring at Nate. 

“So I’ve been enlightened today,” Nate started. Ray rose an eyebrow. Nate swallowed, “Brad came to see me.” 

Ray groaned, throwing his head back, “No one deserves that. Iceman didn’t hurt you, did he?” 

Nate’s ears went red and he shook his head, “No, no he didn’t.” Ray nodded, furrowing his eyebrows. Nate was acting shifty. 

“So, you never did answer my first question.” he pointed out. 

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know how to approach this.” 

Ray swallowed, “It’s fine you know, I won’t kick up a fuss in class or outside, about…” Ray waved between them. 

Nate looked at him intensely, “That wasn’t what I was worried about.” 

“Oh,” 

Nate huffed suddenly, smiling slightly, “I think I’ll just be clear because we’re talking at cross purposes.” Nate breathed in, “I thought after we talked that the note at the end of your essay was a joke, but when Brad appeared, he said that it was true, that you like me,” Ray lipped his lips, looking away, “So I thought I should tell you that it’s reciprocated, fully.” 

Ray blinked, “You like me?” 

Nate smiled slightly, “Yes, I do.” 

Ray laughed, “You like me.” 

Nate shook his head, “I’ve had a… crush on you since around the second week of the semester, I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” 

“I think I was avoiding looking at you too much in case it was weird.” 

Nate’s smile grew, “I think I did the same.” 

“So, what are your intentions sir?” Ray asked cheekily, feeling more at ease. Nate grinned, goddamn grinned with all his pearly white teeth. 

“When do you finish work?” 

Ray opened his mouth to answer when he was cut off, “He can go now, we’re not too busy.” Ray glanced at Max, who gave him a wink, and made a shooing gesture. Ray stuck his tongue out at her, and Nate chuckled softly beside him. God, Ray needed to get that man to laugh, it probably sounded like fucking sunshine. 

“I’m going, I’m going, jeez woman,” Ray moaned, grabbing his bag off the floor. 

He and Nate stepped onto the street, side by side, and shared a look. “So, my place? I’d offer to go out but I’m still getting over my cold flu thing.” 

“Your place is fine, I wanted to ask if you were okay, but you disappeared after class.” 

Ray shrugged, beginning to walk in the direction of his apartment, “I didn’t feel great to be honest, I went and crashed at Matilda’s.” 

“The coffee shop, right? It’s a good place, I probably use it a bit too much.” 

Ray laughed, “Well with a supervisor like Encino Man, I’m surprised you don’t do drugs.” 

Nate pressed his lips together like he did when he was trying not to laugh, “Professor Schwetje can be… difficult but I wouldn’t turn to drugs to handle him.” 

Ray nodded along, giving Nate an amused look, “I’m in awe of your ability to bullshit Nate.” 

Nate cracked a smile, “It serves me well.” 

Ray led Nate to his apartment, letting his mouth run to fill the void. Which wasn’t actually the awkward silence Ray had expected when talking to Nate. Nate dipped into Ray’s monologue with comments that were either thought provoking or made Ray snort. Apparently, Nate’s sense of humour was dry and witty. Ray felt more at ease and it seemed Nate was getting more relaxed as well, letting his professionalness fade and his dorkiness take over. Ray teased him about it as he opened the door, quickly realising that he didn’t know who would be on the other side of the door. 

“So, I didn’t really think this through,” Ray confessed, toeing off his shoes. Nate rose an eyebrow and Ray answered the silent question, “Poke goes nuts if you track shit on the carpet.” 

Nate nodded solemnly and untied his shoes. Ray laughed and walked into the kitchen, yelling over his shoulder, “You want something to drink?” 

“Water would be nice,” Ray stifled another laugh, god he really was a choirboy. 

Nate stepped up, looking around the place and accepting the glass Ray offered him. 

“Don’t worry I haven’t roofied it,” Ray said seriously. Nate snorted, almost choking on water. 

“I assure you, I wasn’t worried about that.” 

Ray nodded along, pulling an unconvinced face. Ray fixed himself a coffee, he needed to be awake for this shit. He pulled up a chair to the kitchen island and waved a hand. 

“So, what _are_ your intensions for me?” Ray said jokingly, moving to take a sip. 

“I’d like to date you,” Ray swallowed his mouthful before he could do a spit take and choked instead, “It’s okay if that’s not what you want,” Nate added. 

“No, no I definitely want to date you homes, have you seen you?” Ray stumbled. 

“Yes, I do own a mirror Ray. I just wanted to add that I would rather start this,” Nate gestured between them, “after the semesters ended and you’re no longer a student of mine.” 

“Teacher student doesn’t do it for you?” Ray asked with a grin. 

Nate’s ears went red again, “Theoretically but not in reality, I do cut lines occasionally, but not that many.” 

Ray nodded, “So what do you want to do now, if we’re not starting this thing yet,” 

Nate smiled, “I was thinking a movie,” 

Ray nodded, “Homes your talking to a guy who has, according to the Iceman has ‘enough movies to buy a Junker from a film addict who gets off to B-rated movies.’” 

Nate grinned, finishing his glass, “I’m sure we can find something to watch.” 

They settled on Raider’s of the Lost Ark, because what’s not to like, action, a hot male lead and bad-guy Nazis. They set up on Ray’s bed and about halfway through Ray was curled in Nate’s arms, which were firmer than Ray expected. Another feature to add to his spank bank. It was nice, not the hot steamy action he’d fantasized about, but somehow this made it feel more real. 

The film ended and Ray stretched out, tilting his head back into Nate’s shoulder. Nate hummed and pressed a kiss to Ray’s cheek. 

“Homes if you’re gonna kiss me, don’t do it like a sixth-grade girl, have some self-pride man.” 

Nate laughed into his hair and Ray’s stomach did that rolling thing. 

“Since you asked, but I’m going to have to teach you some manners.” 

Ray opened his mouth to inform Nate that he was very well mannered, overflowing with manners when Nate cupped his jaw and kissed him. Ray might have sighed like a girl, but he recovered quickly, pressing back and tilting his head to kiss deeper. Nate hummed, biting lightly on Ray’s lower lip before pulling away. 

“If you teach manners like you kiss…” Ray trailed off, staring at Nate’s lips that had pinkened, very prettily. Nate opened his mouth, his green eyes looking teasing and warm, when there was a shrill scream. They shared a look before Ray was jumping up and opening his door, Nate right behind him. 

Ray peered around the door and laughed out loud as he caught sight of Christeson, covered head to toe in blue slime just under the front door. Nate made a questioning noise beside him, also peering at Christeson, who was trying to wipe the slime out of his hair and off his face. 

“One down, six to go,” Brad said as he appeared by Ray’s door. He looked him and Nate up and down, “I discounted Pappy and Rudy because they would never condone exposing you and I’m pretty sure they were asleep on the couch by eleven.” 

Ray watched with glee as Christeson wiped some slime off his forehead, which stayed bright blue. He rose an eyebrow at Brad. 

“I’m not telling you,” Brad said firmly, “I wouldn’t knowingly arm you with that information.” 

Ray grinned, “Homes that won’t stop me.” 

“But it will slow you down.” Brad finished, nodding to Nate before carrying on into the living room. 

Ray stepped back and closed the door. Nate rose an eyebrow, “Should I be worried?” 

Ray waved a hand, “Nah, Brad’s only targeting the guys who could have done the whole confession paragraph.” 

Nate nodded, “Well, it didn’t end awfully for you.” 

Ray grinned, leaning up to close the distance, “No I guess not,” He tugged Nate down the last inch to kiss the fuck out of those soft, filthy choirboy lips. 

“But that won’t stop me and Brad making their life’s hell for a bit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt Credit: https://otp-prompts-for-you.tumblr.com/post/158850049490/height-difference-prompts  
> Student x Teacher Prompts: “Everyone knows I have a crush on you, and everyone jokingly put stuff like ‘(insert name) thinks you’re hot’ into our project. Now we all forgot to take it out and you called me in after class.”


End file.
